The Ship Who Sang

"Fair enough."

"Now, Breslaw's going to want you at the maintenance docks to lay in the CV drive. You'll retain all standard equipment until the Beta Corvi vet the new drive. And yes, that's included in the 500,000. Dobrinon has a stack of results on his analysis of the Beta Corvi trauma for you to print into your banks."

"It's as much Niall's work as mine," Dobrinon said, again trying to draw the silent man into the discussion. "He had several astute correlations to make from the debriefing and psych tapes of the others on that mission that have helped my staff formulate such preliminary conclusions as we've been able to make."

"Yes, yes, Parollan's very helpful," Railly muttered. "So there's just the proper brawn left to be discussed. Right now. . ."

"Hold it," Helva interrupted him. "I thought I made it clear that I will only undertake the Beta Corvi run with the partner of my choice. Whether that man continues after Beta Corvi is not at issue."

Railly turned to her, his eyes wary. "Yes, we'd agreed to that. But you also said you wanted a permanent brawn,"

"I do. But I won't go to Beta Corvi unless Parollan goes with me."

She ignored Railly's explosive protest and the astonished exclamations and congratulations from Dobrinon and Breslaw. Her eyes, her mind, her being were focused on Niall.

The wiry little man turned, his eyes seeking the exact spot on the column parallel to her head.

"This is a bad time for jokes, Helva."

"I'm not joking, m'boy."

"By all that's holy, Parollan, Helva's a genius," Dobrinon cried delightedly, clapping the unresisting shoulder. "And she's called your bluff."

"Indeed she has. You've always boasted you could outbrawn any man in the Service," Railly said in a dry, cool voice. There'd been no vindictiveness in Helva's nomination, but there was in Railly's prompt ratification. "A little field work will make you a better supervisor."

"I think Helva can rectify that fluctuating gravity problem that bugged the test ship," Breslaw assured Parollan. "And there's always the shockweb for added protection."

Abruptly they left. Niall Parollan remained, troubled and dazed, reacting not at all in any of the ways she could understand.

"You've got to be joking, Helva," he said, his voice cracking despite an obvious effort to control himself.

"Why? You know more about brawning than anyone in Service. You know the Corviki problem backward and forward, and you undoubtedly researched Breslaw's equations thoroughly before. . ."

"Of course I did," and the control was gone. His words tumbled out harsh and bitter. "Do you think I'd let you walk into something I hadn't checked thoroughly? But I rigged this farce. I did! Not Railly. I talked him into it. And Breslaw and Dobrinon, too, once I saw the possibility of hooking you."

"That was obvious!"

"You didn't have a chance, Helva, because I knew every button to push on you and when. And I did, gods help me, I did!"

"You are undoubtedly the most unscrupulous supervisor in the Service," she agreed, countering his scathing self-contempt with unruffled humor. "And that was a fardling underhanded trick you just served me."

"You're not even listening to me, you stupid tinplated witch. Can't you understand what I did to you? I made you stay in the Service!"

"No. I elected to stay. On my conditions."

Niall stared wildly at her, his eyes dark with the conflict that was tearing him apart. All arrogance, all self-confidence had been stripped from him. This was too violent a reaction to finding himself momentarily outmaneuvered.

"Your conditions? Your conditions! Now there's another real fine example of cosmic justice," and he laughed hoarsely at an irony only he could see.

"Maybe you'd better let me in on that joke, Niall. I could use a laugh, even if it's on me."

There were tears in his eyes now and he held his clenched fists rigid against his thighs.

"I rigged all this, Helva, because I, Niall Parollan, could not let you leave Central Worlds Service. Oh, yes. I put every mission your way that would help you Pay-off. And when you actually had, I found I couldn't tolerate the prospect. So I set up all those clever nardy ploys to keep you in. Only when I saw you reacting just as I'd planned you should, I knew I'd used my position for the most despicable act in a long series of clever, shrewd, despicable manipulations. And I couldn't stop what I'd started. I couldn't even think of a way to get you out of the mess. Then you, Helva, want me, Parollan, for your brawn." His laugh was a cry of anguish.

"That doesn't change my option, Parollan," she said forcefully. She had to override that horrible laughing. "I want you for brawn as selfishly as you want me in Service. And it'll be safer to have you my brawn than my Supervisor. There isn't much else for me to do anyway but stay with Central Worlds," she added in a gentler voice. "You did make it possible for me to stay on my terms, because they fardling well know that I'm the only ship to do this job. I want you as brawn, Niall Parollan, because you are clever, devious, despicable, unscrupulous, and demanding. Because you do know the right buttons to push on me. You're not much on looks and size, but I've been that road. I'll trust you to bring me back out of anything. . . even Beta Corvi."